Afraid
by RainKrystal
Summary: In which the title is completely nonidicative, and Finland worries about his future. SuFin, with current events inside. T for boy love. Trivia Question!


**Warning(s): **Might not be the best I've ever done as it was done in roughly an hour. Contains boy love.**  
****Diclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
**Rating:** T for safety, though I really don't see it. Boy love, I guess.  
**Pairing(s):** Sweden X Finland.  
**Note:** Sweden's situation on gay marriage recently, it was begging for a fic. Also, this was requested back on DeviantArt by a friend, so I thought I'd also put it up here. This is my first time really trying something pairing oriented and longer, as well as the first time I've written Finland and Sweden, so I hope I didn't mangle this too horribly.

* * *

That night, Finland and Sweden found themselves up the whole night. They weren't _doing_ anything necessarily, they were just sitting together in the darkness, holding on to each other comfortably, listening patiently for the sounds that would give Sealand away if he woke up. Sitting on the front porch in the cold, watching the stars overhead, Finland wrapped up in the warm bear of a person that was Sweden and the many heavy blankets they were sharing, comfortably resting his head on the other Nation's broad chest. It was so peaceful a scene; so exactly like every other lazy evening they'd spent together over the years except for the fact that it wasn't.

Because this time, everything was almost… _Tense_, if Finland had wanted to put a word to the nigh-indescribable feeling that soaked into the atmosphere around them. It wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else; the signs only giving themselves away in the way the Finland couldn't quite bring himself to truly sink into Sweden's hold, or that way that instead of Finland inevitably falling asleep in his partner's arms the way he always did he found himself sharply awake, hyperaware of every sound. That night, the stars were brighter in the sky than Finland could ever remember them having been, shining out of the darkness like beacons so intensely that it almost hurt to look at them. But they were so beautiful, he never would have wanted to look away from them. And in the end, it was probably stupid to think that the stars were any brighter on that night in particular; especially since now they had light pollution and the ash from Iceland's volcano to cover things. And maybe they were only so bright in Finland's imagination, after all. But that didn't change the way he saw them.

Finland was so scared that night, every part of him as sharp as the stars above, his worries digging into his mind acutely. Would everything change, would Sweden be able to see his people and his government take that step? Would it change nothing at all if it passed, would nothing change, would they continue on as they had for as long as they could remember, just the two of them together against whoever would protest? Finland was terrified of what that morning could have brought them. He had wanted so badly to celebrate with Sweden, to hold him and laugh and drink and watch the stars together and really mean it when they simply were _together_. But Finland was terrified to speak up; to rejoice too early. Because what if nothing really did change after all? What if the morning came with nothing to show for itself? What if the two of them only got their hopes up for nothing?

What if?

In the morning, Finland wakes up to find himself alone in the large bed he and Sweden share, still warm from where its owner must have been shortly before now. Finland has always found himself quick to wake up when alone and maybe that's a function of sleeping next and with someone as large and warm as Sweden since his absence is notable even when Finland is sleeping. He must have fallen asleep at some point last night without realizing it, so Finland gets up out of the bed stretching with a silent yawn as he works at all his stiff muscles like a cat. Somewhere else he can smell something cooking, whatever it is it smells amazing and as his stomach growls in reminder, Finland remembers that he needs to eat before he can do much else. Head still full of the morning's fog, Finland makes his way towards the kitchen, prompting himself to be met by an overenthusiastic Sealand with his morning's exuberant greeting in the form of something part flying tackle and part hug, something only children are able to do with any sort of style or grace.

So when he enters the kitchen unhindered, Finland is understandably confused. Looking around the homey room, he finds breakfast on the table and a note. "Please eat, I have something to take care of. Sealand came with me. Love, Sweden." Finland frowns at the note, but doesn't question it much, mostly because he has no idea what Sweden meant by that other than the very clear first part and also because at this point he's very, _very_ hungry. About halfway through his meal, Finland realizes a reason why Sweden has left. The fork clatters out of his hand as the night previous comes rushing back to him in whirl, making him sick to his stomach.

All sorts of possibilities flash through Finland's mind as he bolts through the house to get dressed, trying to find his clothes. After rummaging around the drawers for a good few minutes in desperation, Finland remembers that all of his clothes are in the closet and not Sweden's drawers. So, blushing furiously at his own carelessness, Finland puts all of the larger man's clothes back into their places in the drawers before he heads to the closet to dress himself. Forcing himself to calm down slightly, Finland again reminds himself that he has no idea where Sweden went with Sealand, so there's no point in rushing anywhere. However, this does not mean that Finland isn't on edge through the entire process.

The door squeaks open while Finland is finishing putting the house back in order after his small panic attack. The noise is unobtrusive, but in the dead silence added to the hyperactivity of Finland's sense at the moment, it's enough to cause him to bolt upwards, head snapping to fix on the door like a hawk. Finland looks to the door still in the remnants of his panic, the worry still heavy and embedded in his chest. He's ready to blurt out the thousands of frantic questions that have been tumbling around his head incoherently since he fully woke up about half an hour ago, but when he looks to the door, Finland finds himself speechless.

There he finds Sweden. To understate the situation, Finland finds Sweden in the doorway, dressed better than Finland thinks he's ever seen the gentle giant. To do the scene justice, Finland finds Sweden in an outfit that it would have killed him to wear for any other reason while carrying a bouquet of what looks like Lily of the Valley, a massive blush on his face. While Finland is still trying to collect himself and even begin to process the sight before him -let alone the fact that Sealand seems to be nowhere in sight- Sweden does something that causes whatever is left of Finland's rationality to slide out his open mouth.

He drops to one knee. "I love ya." Sweden mumbles out as coherently as he seems to be able to manage in this circumstance, staring at the ground while he fishes into his jacket pocket pull out a small box. "And I know ya 'lready said yes, but I want tah ask you again now that m'people are ready;" Sweden locks eyes with Finland steadily, with no traces of indecision or hesitation as he asks; "will you be m' wife, Finland?"

Finland finds himself incoherent for a moment or two, unable to wrap his head around what he's been asked while Sweden seems to grow more and more uncomfortable. A number of things float quickly in and out of Finland's mind, but eventually he knows his answer without having to think all too hard about it.

"No, Sweden." He tells the other gently. While the other Nation's eyes go wide with shock and rejection Finland laughs quietly, walking up to the still kneeling Sweden to hug him around the neck, taking advantage of the fact that now Sweden is closer to his level in height. Finland kisses the confused man softly on the forehead, wrapping himself around the giant. "It's not right for me, or my people; not just yet." Finland feels Sweden hesitantly put his own arms around him, the flowers dropped to the floor, the small box presumably somewhere back in Sweden's pockets. "Will you wait for me?" Finland asks his partner quietly, hesitantly, afraid of what he's asking for;

"I'll wait." Sweden answers him faintly, crushing the smaller man to him, standing as he does so, lifting Finland clean off the floor. "I'll wait f'rev'r, if I have ta." Finland does his best to hug the gentle giant back, squeezing tightly on the other man's neck while Sweden returns the gesture around his torso, gripping almost but not quite so tight that Finland is uncomfortable. And it's then that Finland realizes; there was no reason to be afraid of change. No matter what, this would have always been their future.

* * *

**Trivia:** Why did Sweden try to give Finland a bouquet of Lily of the alley?  
-**Answers:** For Time Travel! has had two correct answers, but I'm changing the way I post the answers. I'll post the answers publicly either after I get five correct answers or after three weeks have passed, depending on the difficulty of the question, how many people answer and how quickly they do so. For example, I'm not giving out the answer to For Time Travel! because it's an easy question that just takes some quick wiki-fu to solve. Sing Us A Song is also not getting answered yet, because **no one** has answered it yet.  
-**Prize Winner:** The prize winner for the trivia question in For Time Travel! was BeggarsCan'tBeChoosers, and they'll be recieving some Giripan at some later point.


End file.
